


burn these walls down

by versol



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Music Video: Obsession (EXO), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, i swear omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23358511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versol/pseuds/versol
Summary: Jongdae isn't afraid of flying too close to the sun because he knows that Chanyeøl would never hurt him.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 18
Kudos: 77
Collections: Magika Astra: Thundervalor





	burn these walls down

**Author's Note:**

> **Archive Number:** MA-TV-22  
>  **Conduit:** Jongdae isn't afraid of flying too close to the sun because he knows that Chanyeøl would never hurt him.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** This was so much fun to write but it definitely took a turn down a path I wasn’t expecting. To the dear prompter, I hope this is something close to what you hoped for, I really enjoyed writing this, though it was a bit rushed towards the end bc of the deadline and a sudden lack in confidence. Also, apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes- this was unbetad.
> 
> To the mods, thank you for all your hard work and letting me take this opportunity to join and show some love for dear Jongdae.

  
  


Jongdae watches the sunset fall over the city, watches the smoke of trash fires and dust of construction rise and cloud the mix of bright colors in front of him, turning it murky and shading the sun to be visible to the naked eye.

It’s hard to avoid the memories. The way the buildings are crumbled from the violence and the weapons. The way the streetlamps sputter before finally turning on. The way the other citizens, what’s left of them, shuffle through the streets, still unused to being out after dark without there being a curfew.

The war is still very present in Jongdae’s mind. In everyone’s minds. It’s only been a few months since their country was victorious, but the reasoning behind what caused it all is still stale and dry. Jongdae was asked to fight, and he did, but lost too much for too little.

Kyungsoo and Minseok are gone. The relationship between the six of them wobbling, and barely steady.

He walks with his head down, to avoid any confrontation from the citizens. They’ll know if he fought. And if they do, he’ll get one of two reactions.

They’ll either praise him for bringing honor and victory to the country, or shame him for participating in the deaths and violence committed. 

As if he had a choice.

It’s dark by the time he reaches the other side of town. He slips through the chain link fence, careful not to get his clothes caught. It’s been a lesson learned after one too many times of this; Junmyeon doesn’t like when he comes home with tattered clothes. 

Jongdae wanders through the rubble. It’s the dead part of the city. Nothing but piles of old buildings and debris that were too far gone from the war. It has yet to be cleaned up, it will probably be a while until any of that happens.

He sees a faint, warm glow just down the first alley he comes up on, indicating the presence he’s looking for is waiting down there somewhere. It’s not their usual meeting place, meaning that something is probably wrong, so Jongdae keeps his footsteps quiet.

“Yeol? That you?” His voice feels raw after not having talked for so long, but it still rings out off the close walls of the alley. The flame goes out, and he hears some shuffling, “Hey, it’s just me.”

More shuffling, some rocks fall from a pile and following is the lanky figure he’s been looking for.

“What are you doing so close to the gate? You hate being this close.”Jongdae extends a hand out as he watches his friend stumble down from a pile of rocks, ignoring his offer.

“Nothing.”

“Chanyeøl-” 

“I said  _ nothing _ .” He snaps, a small flicker of flames grace over both his palms. 

Jongdae suppresses an eye roll. Chanyeøl has always been complicated. Always been a little snappy, yet Jongdae always finds himself here, meeting him when he really probably shouldn’t be.

“Whatever,” Jongdae sighs, a little over dramatic, just to get his point across, “Guess I’ll just eat all these steamed buns by myself.”

Silence from the taller man. Jongdae turns to head back down the alley, a little further into the ruins. Chanyeøl never gets this close to the gate that separates the two parts of the city. He says it scares him, that he’s afraid of getting caught. 

“I came all the way here. Shame.”

He hears Chanyeøl following him, silent. Not saying a word. Jongdae can’t tell if this is his way of apologizing or if he doesn't even know how, but walks slowly with Chanyeøl behind him, to their usual meeting place, the top floor of one of the few buildings left standing. 

“You know,” Jongdae collapses on the floor, legs dangling over the platform and slips his backpack off, “We talked about this last time, didn’t we? You don’t need to get upset that I’m trying to help you.”

He pulls the steamed buns, still wrapped up and warm, out of his backpack, and looks back to Chanyeøl, who is standing a few meters away, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Come on, Yeollie. It’s okay, really. You don’t have to tell me, I’m just saying you can if you want to. Come sit down.”

Chanyeøl falters a step forward, and instead keeps his place, clasping his hands behind his back. Complicated. 

Jongdae stands up, walks over to Chanyeøl and stops in front of him, “Hey, look at me.”

Chanyeøl slowly raises his head and Jongdae can finally get a good, long look at the soft glow of his eyes. The left one is still a striking, bright white even at nighttime, the right is only a soft blue haze.

The soft pink discoloration that rises up the side of his face, just around the white eye, glows warm, his hair is all tousled and falls messily over his face, then he notices, “You fought again, didn’t you?”

Chanyeøl’s lip is busted. Something he completely looked over before. There’s a bruise along his cheek. But now that he’s closer, he can see the swelling and the blood that he’s since tried to wipe off.

Chanyeøl’s head falling back to the floor is Jongdae’s answer. 

“Again, huh?” 

No answer. 

“You’re still upset, I bet. So we won’t talk about it right now. Just come sit down and eat, okay?”

Jongdae takes a few steps back and waits. Chanyeøl’s hands are still behind his back, meaning he’s holding back from lashing out. Jongdae knows not to touch him, and instead coaxes him until Chanyeøl is finally sitting next to him, steamed bun in his hands, quietly eating.

“Two months.” Chanyeøl says quietly. 

“Yeah,” Jongdae huffs, a little surprised that Chanyeøl was the first to speak up, “Two months. Crazy, huh?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

Jongdae shakes his head, “No, a lot longer.” 

“Shut up.” Chanyeøl says. 

“What? That’s a good thing. It means we’re close.”

“Oh.” Chanyeøl takes a large bite of his bun, probably as a way to shut himself up, and Jongdae smiles to himself.

  
  


It really doesn’t feel like they met two months ago. It’s felt more like two years to Jongdae, but in a good way. 

During that time, the war had only been over for two months. Jongdae’s adjustment back to his old life was throwing him into turmoil. 

Staying in one place was impossible. Being left to sit and think kept causing him to dig holes deeper and deeper for himself. He pushed everyone away; Junmyeon, Baekhyun, Sehun, Chanyeol, Jongin, he wanted nothing to do with them. Not without Kyungsoo, especially not without Minseok. That’s what’s hit him the hardest. Life without Minseok. A whole lifetime without the one person who he felt closest to. 

The eight of them were the first to be called to action against the opposing force. They’re strong, their abilities were sought for, and they did great. They won their country’s victory, in the end. 

But in the beginning, while they still had a strong chance, the opposing country’s government came up with a brilliant idea to put some new technology to the test, and eight out the nine of them were the center of their plan to wreak havoc. 

It was said there was a malfunction with the device. Some kind of coding error was made, and the program produced the error that was the opposite of themselves.

But that was wrong. The intention was to make something stronger, which they did, but in the end, they created something much worse. 

A product of themselves which could not be controlled nor contained. A species that wreaked havoc, and was barely conscious. A falsely produced, modified, copy-cat of their reflections that hardly had any differentiation of right and wrong. 

Jongdae remembers the first time he met that other side of him. His worst nightmare. The side of himself that he wishes never existed, that made him think about every vile sin he’s ever committed, and the inherent evil that he’s acted upon since the day he was born. 

He watched it, because it’s not a person, it’s a thing, kill Minseok. And Jongdae retaliated by killing Minseok’s exact copy. 

He watched Baekhyun kill Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun kill Kyungsoo again. 

Ever since they got back, Jongdae has found it impossible to even function anymore. He doesn’t sleep, he can barely eat, and he’s found himself sitting and staring blankly at a wall more times than he can count. 

Two years ago his life was in ruins. 

Four months ago he found it nearly impossible to live again. 

Two months ago, he somehow found sanctuary in the one person he knows he shouldn’t.

Jongdae often found himself leaving at random hours of the day, for hours on end. Walking around the city, and eventually coming to the ruins as a way to escape. What he didn’t expect the first time he managed to sneak in though, was the brunt force of someone hitting him over the head, and waking up in some underground lair staring at the face of his best friend.

There was an explosion, the same one that destroyed this end of the capital, that they were sure destroyed them. When Jongdae woke up and saw Chanyeøl sitting in front of him, he almost passed out again.

He walked a couple of circles around Jongdae, as if he was a dog trying to corner his prey. He slowly approached Jongdae, stared at him for a long time, and reached out, fingertips brushing over his cheek, and then looked at the ropes that confined Jongdae to the chair he had been sitting in for the past few hours. 

Jongdae watched as he stared down at him with curiosity, “Why are you here?” He asked.

Jongdae blinked, unsure of what a proper answer would be considering his given situation, “I’m not going to hurt you.” Was all he managed to say. 

“I know you. You killed Min.” He said, a soft glow casted along the floor.

“And Min killed Minseok. So we’re even.”

“Why won’t you hurt me? Don’t you want to?”

Jongdae hesitated, and quickly changed the subject, asking why Chanyeøl was all alone, where the others were, 

“I dunno,” Chanyeøl said simply, “They’re gone. They left me here after the explosion.”

“You’re… All alone here?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m fine, why do you care so much anyways?”

“Because I am too.” Jongdae said. 

At the time, sweet talking Chanyeøl into releasing him felt like a bad idea. Chanyeøl did bad things to good people. He knew trusting him was bad.

Yet Jongdae came back. Because he didn’t know who he even was anymore. 

The second time, Jongdae came back mostly out of curiosity. To make sure that what he saw, what he felt, was not some trauma induced hallucination. That it was real. That was when he discovered Chanyeøl’s issue with his emotions. 

He found Chanyeøl demolishing an old car, leaving large, deep dents in the flimsy metal. The windows were broken save for one that flames poured out of, Chanyeøl’s hands were bloodied and bruised, and bright orange that burst with sparks with every fist he planted. 

Jongdae had called out to him, and Chanyeøl looked at him with a rage that almost made Jongdae want to shrink away, and he lunged at him, full force. 

Jongdae was quick to react, a move of his body to avoid the attack and a shot of electricity made Chanyeøl go stiff and collapse. 

Jongdae got a good look at him, crouched down over Chanyeøl, and put a hand on his face, to make sure that it was real. That what he was seeing was real. 

The heat of Chanyeøl’s skin and softness of his voice when he asked what Jongdae was back for proved enough. 

Ever since then Jongdae has come back. Let Chanyeøl vent his anger and sadness through occasional spars with Jongdae, but mostly through demolishing a lot of cars and buildings and anything else that he can find in sight. 

Jongdae has since found that he’s not very good at communication. 

It’s a work in progress. 

  
  


Now they’re here. Sitting at the top of an destructed hotel building, legs dangling from the edge of where a wall was blown away, facing the part of the city that’s still standing, watching the lights flicker. 

“I’m okay now.” Chanyeøl says suddenly, pulling Jongdae out of his moment. 

“Do you want to try and talk?” Jongdae glances over at Chanyeøl. His hands are clasped together, he does that to try and suppress the flames, and he nods. 

“I’m just- I don’t get why every fucking thing always has to go wrong when I think it’s going right. I’m sick of everything falling the fuck apart right under my fingers.”

Every week, it seems, it’s something new. Chanyeøl takes a breath, and continues. 

“Every fucking time I think something is going okay it doesn’t.”

“Hey, slow down.” Jongdae puts a hand on Chanyeøl’s shoulder, “You literally said one sentance and you’re already getting heated.”

“What started it all?”

Chanyeøl goes quiet for a few seconds, Jongdae squeezes Chanyeøl’s shoulder to get him to continue. 

“I- After you left last night, someone came here.” He says finally.

“About what?”

“Fuck, I dunno. Just said that if I didn’t leave here soon, then something would happen.”

“So you acted instead of being rational, didn’t you?” 

Chanyeøl nods pitifully, and Jongdae can feel the warmth of Chanyeøl’s body from under his jacket. It’s not really an issue. At least, not to Jongdae. He doesn’t really have a choice to come out of hiding right now, but the scary thing is that at some point, he’ll likely be forced to. 

“Yeol, you need to think things out. You can’t keep hurting yourself when you start to get emotional. Especially if someone tries to threaten you.”

From what he had observed over those couple of hours the time he was tied up, and in the battlefield, Chanyeøl was certainly the fiesty one. 

The others were mostly stoic, and silent. But Chanyeøl, Chanyeøl was always the one who argued back, who wouldn’t stop moving, or talking, or arguing. 

“But I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” 

“They won’t.” Jongdae reassures him, letting his hand fall from Chanyeøl’s shoulder and scoots a little closer, “I promise, I’ll be fine. I still have a lot of fight in me.”

“Prove it.” 

Jongdae smiles, wondering if Chanyeøl knows how cute he can be sometimes, “You’ve seen me prove it, dummy.” 

Chanyeøl glances over at him, then back out at the city, then back at Jongdae. He lets the silence draw itself out for a few more minutes until he finally asks,

“So why don’t you do it anymore?”

Jongdae hums in question, meeting glances with Chanyeøl, who doesn’t look away. 

“You don’t use your power anymore… Why not?” That’s a question Jongdae thought he’d never have to answer. Coming from Chanyeøl, especially. 

Jongdae knows he didn’t mean it, that Chanyeøl doesn’t understand, that he isn’t human enough to understand pain and trauma, and the memories that associate with certain events. With the war. 

“You know, you should ask if it’s okay before you decide to ask something like that. You can really hurt people by doing that.” Is the only response Jongdae can manage to choke out. 

He shakes his head, completely defeated by Chanyeøl’s blank stare, “You won’t get it, Yeol. I don’t expect you to. You’re barely human.” The last part was probably a little mean, considering Chanyeol is still a living thing.

“So what?”

“So don’t ask me why I don’t want to use my power anymore! You wouldn’t understand the destruction I’ve caused, the people I’ve killed, how many awful things I’ve seen that still haunt me. Why should I have to relive my trauma when you don’t even understand the impact of what I’m trying to tell you?” Jongdae’s voice cracks, and he swallows it as he stands up, walking further into the center of the old room they meet in.

He tries not to get upset at the other for saying things like that. He knows Chanyeøl doesn’t understand. That he was hardly taught anything about humans before he was sent out to kill them, he doesn’t understand his emotions, the impact his words have on others, the way he lacks empathy simply because he can’t even define it, no matter how many times Jongdae has tried to drill the definition into him. 

“You don’t want them to hurt me, and for what reason, Chanyeol?” Jongdae watches Chanyeøl’s hunched figure straighten out, then stand up. 

“I wanna understand.” He says slowly, as if he’s trying to make sense of what he’s saying as he’s saying it.

“I know what I am, I know what you are, and I wanna be like you. Or at least as much like you as I can... I just don’t wanna be here anymore, Jongdae. There’s no one.”

Nice way to make Jongdae want to melt into a puddle immediately after almost snapping on Chanyeøl. That’s probably one of the most endearing, dare he say, heartfelt things he’s ever heard Chanyeøl say since they’ve met.

“I… I don’t think I understand.” Is what Jongdae’s mouth says, not allowing himself enough time to think. 

Chanyeøl wants to live… In a normal society? He likes Jongdae as in him and not as in the other one? He’s having a hard time understanding. 

“Nevermind then.” Chanyeøl clips. Jongdae can see a faint orange glow against the floor, “Forget it.”

He’s already getting worked up. Jongdae thinks maybe it’s because he’s overthinking, he’s feeling too much at once and doesn’t really understand how to deal with it. 

“Look at me, Jongdae.” Chanyeøl holds his hands out for Jongdae to see. Red and orange flames are already beginning to flicker to life.

“I can’t control this. I dunno know how. We were forgotten by the people who made us, I was left by the only people I knew, and now I’m stranded out here to fend for myself like a fucking dog.” His palms are brighter, slowly increasing in intensity, “I’m not a fucking dog, am I, Dae? Some stray animal that can just be thrown out on the road. Spit on and ignored.”

“This,” Chanyeøl points his palm up towards the sky, his voice is softer, lower. A flame dances out, large, orange and bright. It illuminates most of the room they’re still standing in. 

“I have a feeling  _ this _ is gonna be my downfall. If I stay here, stay the way I am, it’ll just get worse. I’ll hurt someone, and I don’t want it to be you, Dae.” 

Jongdae blinks, takes a step back, and turns around to leave. He doesn’t say anything to Chanyeøl, he only sees himself out silently. 

When he gets to the gate, he looks back over his shoulder to see the hotel in sight. Jongdae can see Chanyeøl still standing in their usual place, flames still flickering from his palms, and for a brief moment, Jongdae almost feels intimidated from his appearance. 

Even when he’s all the way up there, Jongdae can see how straight he’s standing, how his wide shoulders are back, and the anger that’s flickers on his palms. 

He slips through the gate and forces himself to walk with his head kept down, ignoring the fact that he can feel Chanyeøl's gaze burning into him from way back there.

  
  
  


When he gets home, it’s quiet. Nothing to hear from Baekhyun or Junmyeon who snuck their way in. No bickering, no complaining, no prying into his whereabouts. He likes coming home at night like this. Nothing ever to worry about.

  
  


He stays quiet as he makes his way to his room, mind thinking too fast for him to keep up. Trying to piece everything together as he slips into the darkness of his room, fumbling for a lamp, because the overhead lights hurt his eyes, and flopping down at his desk.

The fluttering movement of his curtains startle him. He left his window open, and can faintly hear the traffic from outside. A white noise that allows him to sit back and stare at the wall in front of him as he thinks. 

His eyes roam over some of the pictures he has taped up to the wall. Too many memories, too many things resurfacing and manifesting all at once. 

Minseok, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol. Chanyeøl. 

Chanyeøl. It’s almost like Jongdae can still feel his gaze on him. Heavy, hot, and in some way, a little hurt. 

It’s his fault he couldn’t save Minseok. Or Kyungsoo. 

He’s digging a hole for himself and it all started with the war. Then the one person he knows he shouldn’t trust. The one who is responsible for the death of his friends, his family, his people. 

Chanyeøl is responsible for the destruction of so many of his own people and yet Jongdae tries to look over it because he did the same thing. He empathizes with his enemy because the way he said he wanted to be like Jongdae hurt in some type of way that now he can’t stop thinking about it.

He knows it’s wrong. Deep down, he knows there’s something twisted about it.

Chanyeøl is a sworn enemy. A fabricated version of his own friend that lives the floor above him, was created by the opposing government. 

They were given orders to kill them. And only managed to get so far. 

Now, Jongdae is going against those orders. 

Going against all orders. 

Swearing not to use his power ever again. Even if it’s for good. Secretly meeting his enemy. Getting to know him, understand him, help him.

Jongdae is going against everything he swore to protect and defend. Against his friendship and family’s trust. Against his country the trust of his people.

And he’s okay with it. 

The war is over. There is nothing left. They won and the treaties were signed. There is nothing that their clones can do. They have no orders to follow, no one to dedicate their life for. They simply exist without a purpose and that’s it.

Jongdae rests his head on his arms against the desk and watches the fabric of his curtain flow in the wind. Really, he thinks, they aren’t much different from each other. 

They’re all just existing without much purpose anymore. They’re all trying to find their place in a place where they don’t really belong. 

They aren’t so different after all.

  
  
  


⚡️ 🔥 ⚡️

  
  
  


Jongdae wakes up with a blanket from his bed draped over his back and shoulders. Baekhyun or Junmyeon must have come in to check on him after he got back, since they’re the only ones with a key to his place.

He fell asleep at his desk, his neck and shoulders hurt, his back is strained from being hunched over for so long.

It’s still dark outside. Meaning he hasn’t been asleep for very long, but long enough that someone came in unheard.

He sits up slowly, stretches out the stiffness and sits back. He looks at the time on his clock by his bed. It’s just after four, meaning the sun will rise soon. 

Jongdae stands up from his desk, stretching his limbs out again as he shuffles to his bed, but stops when he hears a small sound at the door, and turns back around to crack it open, 

“There you are, silly. Sleeping in the sink again?”

He watches the little black long haired cat slip into the room and brush over his leg. He found Thunder a little while after they returned home, it was just before he met Chanyeøl. He found the little thing slinking around the city with ash and dust all over his fur and decided to bring him home despite Junmyeon’s constant sneezing every time he came over . 

He quietly closes his door and collapses on his bed. He knows he won’t be able to fall asleep. Now that he’s awake, he’s staying awake.

Jongdae sits back up, moves to his bag on the end of his bed, pulls it into his lap and fishes his phone out to turn it on, ignoring all of the messages from people asking for his whereabouts, chuckling at one Chanyeol had sent that said he’ll make him get one of those location tracking apps in case he found trouble and really disappeared.

A majority of the messages were from Junmyeon. One caught his eye from the leader saying he’s got a mission the following morning and to report to headquarters. He looks over a couple more from Chanyeol. None from Baekhyun, which is normal now. Usually he was always the one to ask where Jongdae was at first. It seems now he’s given up. 

He lays his phone down on the bedside table, and rests his head on his arm. He stares at the picture next to his clock. All nine of them dressed up in their service uniforms, berets lined up, and bright ribbons and shiny pins are all donned on their chests. They’re all there. Laughing and smiling, Jongdae remembers how many tries it took for them to actually get a photo with straight faces without one of them bursting out into laughter or making some stupid joke before the camera flashed. 

Chanyeol was the cause for most of it, but when is he not. 

It was taken just before they left for the frontlines, when they got their orders to bring down a potential threat that was spotted at the border of the country, that was explained to have looked similar to themselves. 

Kyungsoo is squished in between Chanyeol and Baekhyun, a kind of pained smile on his face that screams “Why am I here?” While the two on either side hold Kyungsoo in place with big smiles on their faces.

Jongdae and Minseok are standing side by side. Minseok’s arm is slung tight over Jongdae’s shoulder and vice versa. Minseok is grinning widely and looking at Jongdae, whose eyes are closed and his smile is wide with laughter. 

His feelings for Minseok were always deep, but were one-sided. 

Jongdae isn’t the type to be so bold in how he expresses his more intimate feelings for someone. Minseok especially. When he had met him ten years ago after Jongdae was pulled into the special ops for his abilities, he could tell Minseok was someone who was undoubtedly going to become someone he became very close to. Jongdae was right, he and Minseok worked countless missions together.

The use of both of their powers together was quite interesting. Because really, both of them would have been just fine individually. They were strong enough, they each had the skill to carry themselves alone, but they preferred to be together. It was just better that way. 

The force of Jongdae’s electricity was enough to send Minseok’s ice shards and shrapnel into enemies hundreds of thousands of feet away. They could pretty much read each other’s minds, and knew when and when not to act. They worked in tandem with each other, and even outside of missions, Jongdae and Minseok were inseparable. 

Of course through all the time they spent together, it would make sense for Jongdae to develop some semblance of deeper feelings for Minseok.

But those feelings he kept to himself, and he swallowed them up until Minseok’s passing.

Jongdae has a feeling everyone knew, especially after he died, but just won’t bother to bring it up for his own sake.

He likes it better that way anyways. The more everyone pretends like Minseok or Kyungsoo didn’t exist, the easier it is for him.

The easier it is for all of them.

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  


Jongdae’s muscles are sore as he drags his legs though the city. It’s been a rough week. Long, tiring, but it gave him something to do. He’d rather be asked out on missions that deal with him getting a little battered and bruised than spend the day unsure of what to do and thinking himself into worry.

He stops at a bakery on the way, picks up a couple of pastries, shoves them into his backpack and is on his way. He never got a chance to tell Chanyeøl that he'd be gone, or for how long. This had been a longer mission compared to the ones he’s gotten since meeting him, so hopefully he won’t be too worried. 

  
  


As he slips through the fence and into the ruins the smell of smoke is faint but present enough to make Jongdae start to assume the worst and look for the source, though he has a feeling he knows what it is, or who, for that matter.

He remains quiet, trying to figure out where the feeling of movement in the air is coming from, paying close attention to the smell and intensity of the smoke as he moves over piles of rocks and in between buildings.

There’s a few low vibrations in the ground that Jongdae feels right under the soles of his boots as he stumbles over some more rocks, meaning he’s getting closer. 

A few more paces and a corner of a building slips away and plummets to the ground right in front of him, making Jongdae lose his footing and stumble, covering his head and face from the flying rocks.

When he gets back up, it’s then that he calls out for Chanyeøl. There’s a few small rumbles, the sound of something being smashed. Jongdae knows it’s him. 

He picks up the pace, moving faster to find where he is, but finding his way around now is a rat maze, even with the movement in the air that he desperately tries to hold onto, everything looks the same. Fallen, destroyed, gone, it’s all gone.

He calls out again. The smoke is a little darker, and Jongdae’s eyes water. He climbs on top of a car, hoping there’s anything he can see above the smoke. As the sunlight starts to slip below the horizon and through the buildings, Jongdae can make out a figure in the distance. 

That tall, lanky figure that is lashing about and striking into any standing chunk of standing concrete is undoubtedly the piece of work that is his friend.

He jumps down and hurries over to Chanyeøl, wondering more now about what it is he said last night and hoping he’ll try and settle down when he realizes it’s Jongdae.

Once Chanyeøl is closer within his view, Jongdae yells his name, choking on dust and smoke.

“Go! Go away!”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, ignoring the small jolt that travels up his spine. This isn’t right. 

“Chanyeøl, it’s me-“

Chanyeøl stops briefly, when he turns to look back at Jongdae, he can see the red in his eyes, and Jongdae feels the shock travel down to his finger tips. Chanyeøl wouldn’t… Would he?

“Jongdae…” He heaves, “Go…”

Jongdae takes a few steps closer, “I’m not gonna leave you when you’re in the midst of a breakdown.”

“ _ Jongdae _ !” Even from here, Jongdae can see the veins in Chanyeøl’s neck, and his heart breaks a little at how pained his voice sounds. That’s Chanyeøl, the person he’s looking at isn’t, though. 

Jongdae remains silent, unmoving as he watches the flames flicker and spark in Chanyeøl’s palms. He watches him, watches the way the red in his iris’ dance and suddenly everything Chanyeøl said to him last week hits him hard. Very hard.

Chanyeøl is losing a war with himself. He’s losing that last remnants of any morals he was given, and if Jongdae doesn’t take the chance to risk helping him, he’s going to lose him altogether.

How selfish of him. For Jongdae to only be concerned about his own problems, and not of those of the person who desperately needs him.

Jongdae takes a sure step forward, he won’t leave him behind.

Another one, to reassure Chanyeøl that he’s worth the risk.

And one more, because he knows that Chanyeøl won’t hurt him. 

“Why’re you even here?”

They’re only a few feet apart. Jongdae can sense Chanyeøl’s fear, he can see the red in his eyes starting to dissipate, leaving them half and half.

“Come here, Yeol.”

From here, Jongdae can hear the shakiness in Chanyeøl’s pants. Sweat pours down the side of his face, and Jongdae can feel the heat radiating from his skin. 

Chanyeøl shakes his head, clenching his fists tightly, but he doesn’t move.

Jongdae watches him blink once, and his eyes flicker back to their normal color. Blinks again, they’re red. 

Complicated, he thinks to himself. But so precious. 

Jongdae reaches out, slowly, he lets his finger tips graze over the side of Chanyeøl’s face. He can feel his jaw tense, but still, carefully lets his hand move to the side of his face. The way he looks standing here, with the sun hitting his skin warm and glowing. He’s pretty. Soft, and gentle. 

His hand slips round the back of his head, and gently, Jongdae pulls him down, letting his arms wrap around Chanyeøl’s neck. 

“It’s getting worse, Jongdae.” Chanyeøl’s voice is hoarse, and he sinks a little into Jongdae’s hold.

“What’s gonna happen…” He murmurs, “If you can't stop me next time?”

  
  


Jongdae shushes him, “Don’t say that. We’re gonna get you better.”

There’s a beat of silence and hesitation before Chanyeøl speaks, “Can I ask something?” He asks. 

Jongdae can feel the vibration of Chanyeøl’s chest in his own. They’ve never been this close before, Chanyeøl has never let him, always afraid of what he or Jongdae would do. 

For Chanyeøl, even in a state like this, to let Jongdae do this speaks volumes. 

Jongdae hums, letting Chanyeøl say what he needs.

“What’s it mean to be afraid?”

“Being scared…” Jongdae’s voice trails as he tries to think of an answer. Lets his fingers slowly scratch the back of Chanyeøl’s neck, “It means to be unsure about a situation.” He starts, “Like walking into a battle and not knowing if you’ll live or die. You’re apprehensive, you think your life's on the line, your heart beats fast and your mind doesn’t quite process. Your body just moves on it’s own to survive.”

“Like an animal.” Chanyeøl mutters. 

“It’s an instinct, we all have it.” Jongdae assures, letting his tips of his fingers run over the hot skin of his neck, a few drops of sweat fall onto his hand, but Jongdae ignores it, listening to Chanyeøl’s breathing even out. 

For Chanyeøl to ask, even  _ feel _ an emotion as intense as fear is something Jongdae almost didn’t think was possible. After seeing him out on the field, after fighting him all these times, Chanyeøl was a different person. So ruthless, so full of rage, and was never able to be controlled by anyone, himself included.

For him to stand here and confess to the both of them, “I’m afraid, Jongdae.” 

It’s a step forward. He’s getting it, but at the same time, this is bad news. Chanyeøl is starting to crumble, and if Jongdae doesn’t help him, he’ll fall apart along with these ruins.

“It’s okay,” Jongdae says, “You have a reason. 

“We’re going to fix you, Yeol. I’m not letting you go, okay?”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Chanyeøl asks. It’s not condescending, 

Jongdae doesn’t say anything, only pulls back and smiles up at Chanyeøl softly, “Lets go.”

  
  
  


When Jongdae wakes up, he panics, unsure of where he’s at until he remembers that once Chanyeøl brought him back to his… Shelter, Jongdae ended up falling asleep while Chanyeøl flipped happily ate the pastries Jongdae brought for him. 

Chanyeøl’s “home” wasn’t really much of a home. It wasn’t really anything. When Chanyeøl led him here, he was a bit surprised to see it was the remains of one of the hospitals. Chanyeøl resided far on the back side a few floors up, keeping him mostly hidden away. 

The room he has is mostly intact compared to the others. The window is mostly there, he has two cots pushed together to compensate for his size, but that’s about it.

Speaking of, Jongdae is a little surprised to realize he had fallen asleep against Chanyeøl’s shoulder. It’s pleasantly warm, and he doesn’t know how much time has passed, not that it matters now, because the sun out.

Jongdae sits up, rubbing at his eyes and pulling his weight off of Chanyeøl, still slightly amazed that he didn’t move out of uncertainty.

“Sorry,” Jongdae mumbles, “I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”

“You were talking.” Chanyeøl says,

“Yeah?” Jongdae asks, watching Chanyeøl nod, “You sounded afraid.” He says.

“What happened to you?” Chanyeøl immediately changes the subject, not giving Jongdae another second to respond and is peering down at Jongdae’s face closely, just a few inches from him as if trying to inspect some of the fading bruises on his face.

“Okay, first, personal space.” Jongdae says, feeling himself grow a little red in the face and watches Chanyeøl blink once and then back away, “I was out on a mission. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean we beat all the bad guys. I still have a job, dummy.”

“Oh.” Chanyeøl breathes quietly, “I thought you were really gone. Like maybe I made you run away after what happened that one night.”

Jongdae feels the corners of his lips pull into a small smile. Chanyeøl missed him.

“It was pretty short notice, I didn't have a chance to come tell you. I’m sorry I worried you.”

Jongdae looks down at his lap, sees the difference in length between his and Chanyeøl’s legs and smiles again. He’s so tall.

“Chanyeøl,” Jongdae starts, waiting for the males reply before continuing, “I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you the other night. I know you didn’t mean what you said, you didn’t understand and I got ahead of myself. I‘m sorry.”

“I guess there’s stuff from the war that… Sticks.” Jongdae continues, “Either way,” He shakes his head to keep himself on track,

“After what you told me then and seeing you earlier, I’m not letting you fall victim to yourself. You know something is wrong, Yeol, and I promise I’ll help you, but you need to promise me that you won’t let your emotions control you. You can’t keep letting your rage blind you.”

“It feels like it’s eating me alive, Jongdae. I dunno know how to control it- Just happens.”

Jongdae pauses, looks at Chanyeøl for a few seconds, studies him,

“Then how are you doing it right now?” 

Chanyeøl pauses, looking down at his own lap and shrugs, “Because you’re here. I told you I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Another small pause between them, “You see what I mean?” Chanyeøl says. 

Jongdae takes one of Chanyeøl’s hands into both of his. He understands. Chanyeøl doesn’t need to explain anything else, it’s clear that if he doesn’t pull himself together, he’ll drive himself into a state that will become completely unstoppable. 

Jongdae knows he’s the only person that can do anything about it. But how, how can Jongdae bring Chanyeøl back to a place that hates him? Introduce him to a life he’s never known and expect him to adjust just fine?

Would his friends even accept him?

“Hey, Jongdae.” Chanyeøl’s voice is soft, but it still startles Jongdae out of his thoughts. He looks over and meets eyes with him, staring into that soft white and flickering blue.

“Yeah?” He hums. 

“I’m sorry too.”

  
  
  
  


⚡️ 🔥 ⚡️

  
  
  
  


This concept of fighting himself is something he never thought would ever happen now, or in any of his lifetimes. 

It was much more than just terrifying. But Jongdae couldn’t quite describe it. It left him with a feeling of guilt, in a sense, rather than accomplishment like he thought it would. Something about inflicting pain on “yourself” and watching it smile is incredibly off putting in Jongdae’s perspective.

How any of this happened, no one knows. It’s got every feature he has on his body. The same curl of the lips, the moles on his face, even the one at the base of his neck where it meets his collarbone.

The same laugh, the same smile, the same expressions. The voice, the figure of speech, though much more improper, everything is not the same, but eerily identical.

It’s all the worst of him brought together in a person and he doesn’t know how it happened. How their opposition managed to get this much information, and then use their own power against them. 

All that’s going through his mind now is surviving. Not defeating, but surviving. 

He feels the wind hit his face, watches the smoke billow in thick clouds from the streets around him. The clouds are starting to collect and even from down here, Jongdae can feel the electricity starting to build. Feels the movement in the air all around him.

“The sooner we finish this, the better.” Chanyeol says next to him, “I’m right behind you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae keeps his mouth shut and only moves, smirking as he lets the electricity crackle in his palms. Chanyeol keeps his distance as Jongdae raises his hand, 

And fires.

First, he lets it travel through the electrical lines, making the lights explode and send sparks down showering to the ground. Jongdae let’s it collect and build until he feels that familiar burst of energy and sends it straight down into the ground, not letting it up, only pushing harder.

When electricity travels, Jongdae can essentially see it. See where it moves, it’s path of travel, and when he can feel the movement above ground he knows he’s found it. He’s got them. 

“I’m in,” Jongdae says, “Get them out.”

Silence follows. The flick of his wrists and the flames that erupt from Chanyeol’s hands are a little scary, but reassuring as he focuses on where Jongdae is building, raises an arm, and sends his version of a flare, then he’s gone.

  
  
  


It’s so quiet now. It’s like all of the chaos of gunshots and explosions didn’t just happen. Like someone hit the mute button on reality and suddenly Jongdae starts to panic because he can’t even hear himself calling out for Chanyeol, for Minseok, for anyone who was nearby. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Jongdae overdid it. He harnessed too much power and when Chanyeol went in, 

Everyone disappeared. He saw white, and now he’s awake, and it’s dark. 

The buildings that once stood so tall and proud all around him are now flattened.

_ “Look what you did, Jongdae.” _

No, no he didn’t mean to. He didn’t realize that intensity of the power he had built up. He didn’t know. 

_ “Don’t act like you don’t know. You turned your back on all of us.” _

This is all in his head. That isn’t him speaking. 

_ “Look at your love, look at your friends. You ruined them all, killed one of them, how would they feel knowing you turned your back on them?” _

Stop, stop, make it stop. 

Jongdae can’t hear anything but his own voice talking down on him. Like someone hit the mute button on reality but yet is speaking through a megaphone right in his ear. It’s so loud, yet everything is so frighteningly silent. 

Go away. 

_ “Look at you, Jongdae. So helpless.” _

This isn’t real. This thing didn’t live, his friends made it out. They’re all out. 

Make it be quiet, please just make it go away. Jongdae wants to thrash his body and scream at whatever it is that’s keeping him paralyzed here. It’s all so heavy, his body is sinking into the ground, the darkness is starting to close in, his chest feels tight. 

_ “Dae,”  _

No. 

Don’t look. Don’t look. 

_ “Dae.”  _ It’s so mocking. So condescending and Jongdae feels the rage and the fear start to build and he can’t do anything but open his eyes, look ahead, and meet the stark white eyes of himself. 

_ “Dae.” _

“Dae, wake up.”

Jongdae’s heart races and he sits up in panic. His body is covered in sweat, his throat is raw and he feels like he’s been anchored to the ground for forever. 

“Calm down, it’s okay.”

Junmyeon?

When did he get home? He doesn’t even remember coming back, he was with Chanyeol last he remembers.

“I killed him.  _ Fuck- _ “ 

Jongdae can’t follow Junmyeon’s instructions right now. He can’t stop thinking. He can’t catch his breath. Images of Minseok and Kyungsoo start flashing through his mind- dead, gone. The city, the people, gone. 

“It was my fault, Junmyeon. It’s my fault they’re gone.”

He can’t tell if he’s crying. He can’t hear anything going on around him, he doesn’t want to. He can’t hear, he can’t feel, he can’t move. All he can do is think, remember things he doesn’t want to remember, and they get more and more vivid each second, forcing him to relive everything. To look himself in the eyes again, to look at his friends lying lifeless on the ground, 

“I killed him.” 

  
  
  
  


Jongdae doesn’t remember the last time he slept an entire night without waking up from a nightmare or some sort of anxiety. He doesn’t remember the last time he genuinely enjoyed himself, or time with his friends without having some noise or word send mind reeling back to some memory during the war. 

Jongdae doesn’t remember who he was before the war even started. 

Jongdae doesn’t know who he is now that it’s over and he isn’t living with the apprehension of his life on the line, or the constant action of fighting and feeling like timid was moving in fast forward yet at a snail's pace. 

His life is consumed by feeling like a burden, completely useless. 

He remembers the look on the lieutenants faces when he said he didn’t want to use his power anymore. 

How disappointed they looked. 

“You know this means you won’t get selected for as many missions? You’re a crucial piece of this orchestra, Jongdae.”

He knew what he was getting himself into. He only replied saying he was honored to still be selected, and that he’s glad they understood his decision, even though he knows they didn’t, and never will. 

Out of all of them, Jongdae is the only one who declared to not use his power anymore under any circumstances unless it was absolutely necessary. 

With every passing day, Jongdae doesn’t really know where it goes. He doesn’t remember. It’s like he’s only active when the sun sets and he’s moving through the city to the place that he shouldn’t be going, meeting the only person who makes him slightly more alive again. 

Those white eyes that scared him so much are so soft, and so curious. And when Jongdae see’s them now he almost feels relaxed. 

But when he walks out of his room and nearly runs into Baekhyun, he tenses up completely. He has no idea when the last time they’ve even looked at each other was, and suddenly everything becomes incredibly awkward. 

They stare at each other for a few seconds, and Jongdae really wants to look away, but he can’t. 

“Long time no see. I was just coming to check on you.” Baekhyun says, “How was your mission?”

Jongdae blinks, probably looking confused, wondering why Baekhyun isn’t flaring up on him right now. Though he doesn’t know why he would, he just feels like he should be. 

Jongdae nods, “Fine,” He says quietly, “It was okay… Yours?”

Baekhyun shrugs, “Same as always.” He says, “Tedious and exhausting.”

Jongdae analyzes Baekhyun just a second longer, and can tell, just from the way he’s standing, and the blank look in his eyes that he’s not interested in the conversation, more or less Jongdae himself.

Jongdae nods, taking a step back into his room, “Yeah,” He says, “I uh- I’m gonna get going. I’ll see you later. Thanks for stopping by.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widen a little and moves to respond just as Jongdae shuts his door, staying pressed against it until he hears Baekhyun sigh and walk away. He hears him faintly talking to who he suspects is Junmyeon, hears the whine in his tone and Junmyeon’s soft, inaudible reply. 

It’s now that he just realizes he fell asleep in his clothes again. It’s a regular thing these days. Jongdae completely forgets to change, or is too exhausted from doing nothing to get changed,and ends up wearing clothes that he often forgets to wash.

He waits until the conversations stop to slip out, but only makes it as far as the front door until Junmyeon’s voice stops him, “Where is it that you’re always off to?”

Jongdae is just about finished tying his boots when he freezes, glances at Junmyeon who is standing just a few feet from the entryway innocently with a mug in one hand. For this being Jongdae’s apartment, he certainly makes himself at home. 

“Why do you care?” 

Junmyeon’s eyebrows press together and he looks a little offended by Jongdae’s sudden bite in tone, but his voice is still soft and steady, “Because I’m still your leader.” He says, “Plus I’m worried about you. You had another nightmare last night and you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

Jongdae stands up, shrugging his jacket on, “I’m fine.” He says, letting his own tone soften a little, but still keeps his guard up, “I’ll be back later. You guys can leave now.” 

“We were gonna get together with the others and have some drinks tonight, did you wanna come?”

Jongdae grabs his backpack from the floor and shakes his head, “No thanks. I shouldn’t drink.” He opens the front door and is about to slam it shut only to freeze yet again when Junmyeon calls his name. 

He opens it far enough to see Junmyeon, worry all over his face and painfully in his tone say, “Please be careful.” And watches Jongdae close the door behind him without a reply. 

  
  
  


Jongdae must clearly look a little rough. When he approaches Chanyeøl, the first thing he does is take a long look at Jongdae, then hum in thought before he finally says, “Tired. You’re tired.”

“You don’t sleep.” Jongdae says, “How would you know what it is to be tired?”

Chanyeøl smiles, “I  _ can _ sleep, I just choose not to. Plus, you look tired all the time. Just worse today.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, and slips his backpack off, tossing it to Chanyeøl who is leaned up against the wall, one leg dangling off the edge of their usual building. He eagerly opens it up, digging out whatever random sweets Jongdae thought of buying on his way here, only to look disappointed. 

“Nothing?” Chanyeøl asks, looking at Jongdae in confusion. 

“There’s something in there, it’s just different.”

“What?”

“Hand that back,” Jongdae extends his arms out and catches the backpack Chanyeøl tosses, looking inside and fishing out a manga he found sticking out from under his bed. Admittedly, he forgot he had it.

“This is a book, dummy. Well, kind of.” He hands it over to Chanyeøl, “I think it might help you understand your feelings a little more.”

Chanyeøl looks very confused, and it’s amusing to see. This is a good first step at acclimating him to this life. Plus, even if Chanyeøl does accidentally burn it to a crisp, it won’t matter. There’s plenty more. 

“I can’t read, though. I was made to destroy, not read.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Jongdae laughs, “But you don’t have a reason to do that anymore now. You want to learn to control those flames, right?” Jongdae watches Chanyeøl look at his hands, then at him, and nods slowly. 

“Then learn to empathize and understand patience.” He says, “When I’m gone, you can read this. And when I get here, I’ll help you out. This is your first step into my world, and self control.”

The look on Chanyeøl’s face is really too much for Jongdae to try and keep a straight face. 

“Why the hell are you laughing at me?”

Jongdae giggles at the confusion on Chanyeøl’s features and reassures him it’s nothing serious, and that he’s just cute when he’s clueless. 

  
  


Trying to teach Chanyeøl how to read was, to his surprise, much easier than he had originally expected. It makes sense, in a way. Chanyeøl is an intricately designed clone of his own best friend. Chanyeøl is very self-aware, he knows things about himself, he knows what he needs to survive. 

Add on that Chanyeøl is a creature not of this world, it would make sense that he was made with a mind that processes information faster than one originally of this world. He’s a falsely produced creature, he’s made to process information quickly and on the spot. 

  
  


Despite being created with only one purpose in mind, Jongdae starts to wonder if maybe his services would still be needed even after the war ended. Chanyeøl was able to follow direct orders without much detailed explanation and followed through with them almost flawlessly.

Plus, he somehow managed to survive the horrifying destruction of the explosion here. There’s much more to him than meets the eye, and Jongdae starts taking mental notes as he watches Chanyeøl slowly read words off the pages and ask their definitions with big eyes.

  
  


They spend maybe an hour going through only the first chapter. Most of it was spent explaining feelings and words to Chanyeøl, who repeated them back and followed up with way too many questions after. 

Jongdae looks up at the stars and feels Chanyeøl shuffle closer next to him. 

“That person came back again.” Chanyeøl’s voice is low and warm, but Jongdae can hear the worry in it. 

It takes Jongdae a moment to realize what he’s talking about, but remembers that being the reason for Chanyeøl’s snap a couple of weeks ago, when Jongdae found him close to the gate. 

“The one from last time? Did they say anything?”

Chanyeøl shakes his head, “He just walked around really slowly. I followed him around. It was weird though, he walked like he knew where he was going.”

Jongdae cocks his head, “You… You didn’t do anything, did you?”

Chanyeøl shakes his head again, “Wanted to.” He says, “But I just watched. Should’ve fucking-“

“Chanyeøl.”

“Whatever.” Chanyeøl huffs, “If he comes back I’m not gonna hold back next time. I don’t like when people taunt me.”

“Don’t do that,” Jongdae says, “That’s going to make things worse. He wants a reaction out of you just like the first time, you can’t give into that kind of thing. Not when it’s starting to get out of hand. You could seriously end up doing something stupid and risk getting yourself hurt.”

Jongdae can feel the heat radiating from Chanyeøl and glances down, watching him pull his hands into his lap.

“You really think I can do it, Jongdae?”

Jongdae almost replies, but decides not to. Chanyeøl should know what his reply is.

Instead, he reaches over and rests his hands on Chanyeøl’s, letting his fingers stroke over his knuckles. 

“You know what my answer is.” Jongdae lets himself rest against Chanyeøl’s shoulder, and closes his eyes, feeling comfortable against his large frame and the heat he radiates.

This is the kind of comfort Jongdae longs for. Chanyeøl may not understand it now, but Jongdae needs him too. 

  
  
  


—

  
  


The knock at his bedroom door disrupts his sleep. Or what was more like, mostly asleep but still somewhat awake. 

The door opens without him even getting a chance to respond, much less turn around, but when he hears Baekhyun’s voice, Jongdae figures it’s best to just stay where he is.

“First you don’t show up for a night out with your unit and now you fake sleep on me. Nice.” Baekhyun deadpans. 

Jongdae takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly, “Never said I was sleeping.” Jongdae answers, turning onto his back and sits up, looking at Baekhyun in the doorway.

He always looks like there’s something he wants to say but doesn’t quite know how to say it. Like he’s frustrated with himself or Jongdae.

“But you never said you were awake either.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, “What do you want?”

Baekhyun huffs, “Nothing. Just making sure you still aren’t dead. Where were you tonight?”

“Gone,” Jongdae answers simply, “You guys wouldn’t want me there anyways, I’d probably end up getting wasted and bitching about my problems. You wouldn’t have wanted me to kill the mood.” He admits, watching Baekhyun’s glare narrow a little more as he leans up against the door frame. 

If you had actually cared to make an appearance, maybe you would’ve seen that we all did. Chanyeol especially. If you don’t want to show up to unit gatherings then fine, but the least you could do is check up on some of us every now and then instead of running off to forget about everything.” With that, Baekhyun slams the door, leaving Jongdae a little stunned. Lips parted and eye blinking every few seconds. He doesn’t even notice Thunder stalking up the bed to bump her head into his chest, he just watches the door as if Baekhyun will come back. 

His phone buzzes on the nightstand, making his head snap to the illuminated screen, 

_ From: _

_ Mighty Leader Suho _

_ He’s drunk and emotional. I’m sorry.  _

_ We really missed you tonight, but I hope you’re okay. Get some sleep.  _

  
  


Jongdae sends a short reply, followed by an apology, and just as he’s about to set his phone down, he pulls it back, opens it up, and sends another text. 

  
  


_ To: _

_ Chanyeol  _

_ Sorry i wasn’t there tonight.  _

_ Pier tomorrow??? Maybe we can talk.  _

  
  


An almost immediate reply filled with keyboard smashes followed by a “YES!!!” In all caps is enough to make Jongdae’s lips curl up. 

He misses Chanyeol. The Chanyeol from this world. 

The more that he thinks about it, and compares the two, the more he starts to realize that Chanyeol and Chanyeøl are mostly different. Chanyeol is loud, passionate, filled with energy and vigor; while Chanyeøl is soft spoken, quiet, and, even though he’d never admit it, a little timid. 

It’s cute. And Jongdae wonders if maybe they would get along, bring out the best in each other if he brought Chanyeøl here. 

It probably won’t. But he can dream. 

  
  


“I think he’d love you, though.” Jongdae tips his head back when Thunder butts her head against his face. She’s so clingy, kind of like Yeol. 

He’s never seen animals before, much less handled one, but if he’s anything like Chanyeol, he’ll probably become all soft and cute. 

“He might scare you a little at first, but he’s nice.”

“He’s kinda like you,” Jongdae scratches behind her ears and Thunder sits back in his lap, then flops over, making Jongdae chuckle, “Lost, and afraid. But all he needs is someone to bring out the best in him.” 

  
  
  
  
  


⚡️ 🔥 ⚡️

  
  
  
  
  


Jongdae had forgotten how serene the pier was. Watching the waves roll up along the beach and the birds fly and shout, it brought a different feeling of calm Jongdae hasn’t felt for a while.

He hears a familiar shout behind him and turns around to see Chanyeol waving and walking down the dock. The sunlight makes it a little hard to see, but he can almost imagine the huge grins on Chanyeol’s face. 

Jongdae stands up, waves, and walks to meet Chanyeol halfway, and as soon as he’s within reach, Chanyeol crushes him in a suffocating bear hug gushing on and on about how much he’s missed Jongdae. 

Jongdae taps him, stumbles a little when Chanyeol lets him go, and laughs, “God, you act like we haven’t seen each other in years.”

They walk back to the end of the pier, “It’s felt like it. Time passes differently now.”

They let their legs swing over the edge of the dock, watching the waves crash and birds fly. They catch up on missions, things they’ve been doing in between when they have time, and when Jongdae finishes telling him about his most recent one, Chanyeol, who is leaning back against his hands asks, “You haven’t had all that many missions… What do you do when you’re not called up?”

Jongdae glances at him, tries to shake the image of white eyes and pink hair away and shrugs, “Write, read, wander around. Anything that allows me to not think about the war.” 

“How are your nightmares? Still bad?”

Jongdae looks down at the waves below him and nods, “Yeah, still pretty bad.”

Jongdae goes into telling him about the one from the other night, how if Junmyeon had not been there when he was, then things would have been pretty bad, how frustrating it is to keep living the same moments over and over again and not be able to do anything about it. 

“I feel like I’m in some psychological horror movie.” Jongdae says, “Like those ones that really fuck with your mind and make you start questioning what’s real and what isn’t.”

Chanyeol hums, “You know why we have nightmares?” 

Jongdae continues to watch his legs swing back and forth, “PTSD?” He asks, “I don’t know.”

Chanyeol chuckles, “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“Usually when we suffer from traumatic events, our brains use those moments to try and cope, and we have nightmares. In your case, it’s Minseok and that explosion at the other end of the city. Your mind is putting them both together and now you think that both of these things are your fault.”

There’s a few seconds of pause for Jongdae to take it all in. Jongdae glances up at his friend, who stares back with honest sincerity, 

“They aren’t, Jongdae.” 

“Both of those things were completely out of your control. You were in a compromising position, but you risked everything to make sure we all got out alive. Even though you’ll probably never believe me, neither of those things were your fault. They never will be.”

“You always make everything sound easy.” Jongdae says softly. Count on Chanyeol to always make the impossible somehow sound possible. 

“I’m sorry, Dae… For everything that happened. Sometimes I feel like part of that mess over there was my fault, too.”

“You just said I shouldn’t blame myself, look what you’re doing?” Jongdae shoves Chanyeol’s shoulder playfully, but he doesn’t get the wide grin he expects, if anything Chanyeol looks a bit sad. 

  
  


Jongdae’s shoulders sag and he wraps his arm around his friends back, and leans on his shoulder, “Let's stop blaming ourselves for this. We didn’t know the outcome would be that massive, only the ones above us did. They’re to blame. We just carried out the orders.”

“Do you notice people ever glaring at you when you go out, Jongdae?”

Jongdae nods, “That’s why I only go out at dark. Less people.”

“Does it hurt?”

Jongdae shrugs, “I guess.” He says, “Sometimes.”

“Does everything from the war still hurt?”

Jongdae nods, “Yeah.”

“Why do you act like it doesn’t, then?”

Jongdae glances up at Chanyeol, whose eyes are fixed on the horizon, then back down to the waves below. 

“Enlighten me.” Jongdae says, feeling Chanyeol shift, “We were pretty surprised when you said you wanted to stop using your power. You were a big asset in terms of power, a lot of the officers were surprised.” He leans back onto his hands again, 

“I was a little pissed, too. But after a while I started to understand why you did it.”

Chanyeol pauses, looks down at Jongdae and holds his gaze on him for a moment, “I think you were afraid that you would hurt someone within our circle out of a burst of rage, right? You were afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself and stopped using it before it was too late.”

Jongdae never really thought about it like that. And when it’s coming from someone who’s voice he matches with a small scratch on the bridge of his knows and a look that is always mostly confused, Jongdae realizes the reason he’s so attached to Chanyeøl is because

He’s just like him. 

Jongdae saw some part of himself he didn’t know about in Chanyeøl and found comfort in him to the point where he’s willing to risk everything for that silly clone. 

Jongdae nods, “It was special to me too, though, ya know?” 

“It was something that was special between Minseok and I. Once he was gone, I kind of felt a part of myself go, too.”

“So you bottled everything up instead of look for help. That’s why Baekhyun is so upset with you.” Chanyeol finishes surely. Jongdae had no idea the others knew about his recent falling out with Baekhyun, but he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like they haven’t made it blatantly obvious that there’s been issues ever since they’ve gotten back.

Jongdae might as well say he’s right. It’s not like he’d know. Everyone seems to see right through him, recently, so Chanyeol, who is far too empathetic would be no different. 

“You’re only making things worse for yourself by doing that, Jongdae. It’s okay to mourn and to feel a little down, but we’re all worried about you. I’m most afraid that you’ll end up lashing out on someone at the wrong time. You’re insanely powerful, and trust me, I would know the effects of what can happen when you swallow too many emotions.”

  
  


“Do you sometimes want it all back, Chanyeol?”

“Want what?”

“The war. Do you ever just… Want to go back for the sake of having something to do? Having some kind of excitement instead of the occasional mission?”

Chanyeol flops down onto his back, shielding his eyes from the sun, “Sometimes,” He says indefinitely, “Only sometimes.”

“It’s insane how much we can change in just a few years.” Jongdae says. He watches two birds chase one another ahead, flying back and forth and climbing high and diving, he jumps when Chanyeol’s arms falls heavy over his shoulders, 

“Exactly.” He says, “If we can change so quickly for the worst, why can’t we turn it around and change for the better?”

Chanyeol stretches his arms up in the air and lets them fall with a long sigh, “Let’s go before it gets dark.”

  
  
  


— 

  
  
  


Jongdae doesn’t think he’s seen Chanyeøl quite this eager. The last time was when Jongdae had agreed to some sparring to help Chanyeøl blow off some steam, and had gotten way too excited to the point Jongdae had to give him a pretty hefty shock to make him stay still and get himself together. 

Jongdae swears when his name is called out suddenly and watches Chanyeøl come eagerly running up, his eyes are bright and he looks genuinely excited. 

“I have a lot of questions.” He says, holding out the mange for Jongdae to take, which he does with a breathy chuckle, “Let’s head upstairs first.” 

Upon opening the comic, Jongdae was a little surprised. He had shown Chanyeøl how to do gear the pages he had questions about and expected a good handful of corners to be folded, but not almost every single page. 

“This,” Chanyeøl opens it up to a very specific page, and Jongdae feels his face heat up when he sees the picture and knows exactly what to expect.

“What the fuck are they doing?” Chanyeøl points to the two characters who are sharing a pretty heated kiss, and Jongdae feels himself shrink. 

“They’re kissing,” He tries to think of the best way to explain this without making it super complicated, “It’s like… When two people have romantic feelings for one another, they kiss. It’s a… Intimate form of affection.”

“How does it work? Don’t you say that invading personal space is kinda uncomfortable?” 

Sometimes Chanyeøl latches onto things a little too well that it’s almost frustrating. Jongdae did say that around the time they first met. 

Jongdae groans, “Yeah but… When you’re in love with someone that sort of thing is different. You begin to crave affection for a specific person.”

“Weird.” Chanyeøl says, making Jongdae chuckle again, “Welcome to my world.”

Chanyeøl goes into way too many questions that Jongdae hadn’t even thought possible for him to ask. Trying to explain words and actions and feeling was starting to fry his brain a little, but watching how excited Chanyeøl got when he started to understand, made the fatigue bearable. 

Knowing that Chanyeøl was understanding and controlling himself not only for the sake of Jongdae is commitment, and it's an improvement that he never thought would be this quick. 

Eventually, it the question arises, and Jongdae asks how Chanyeøl has been handling his flames while Jongdae in’t there. 

There’s an obvious shift in his mood. The way his shoulders fall and the glimmer in his eyes starts to fade. He shrugs, “It’s okay.” He starts, turning his gaze down to his hands, “I just don’t know if it’s a bad thing for you to be my only reason to try and control it. It’s easier when you’re here with me. But when you leave it just… It all comes back.”

“I try, Jongdae. ‘S just hard when you’re the only one. No one to stop you, or hold you back.”

Jongdae nods in understanding, running a hand through Chanyeøl’s hair, “I know. I don’t expect you to be perfect all the time, all that matters is that you’re putting in the effort to make a difference. I’m proud of you. Compared to three month ago this probably would have been nearly impossible.”

“Thanks, Dae… For not giving up on me.”

Jongdae smiles, leans over and rests on Chanyeøl’s shoulder, immediately feeling himself relax against the warmth and the comfort, “You’re worth it, Yeol.”

“You’ll always be worth it.”

  
  
  
  
  


⚡️ 🔥 ⚡️

  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s unusual for Jongdae to feel movement before he even sleeps through the gate. It’s quick, and it’s close, and it’s very strange for it to just be Chanyeøl.

He’s careful as he slips inside, keeping his weight centered and senses alert as he looks around, feeling more than one presence roaming around through the air. Dark clouds swirl around above and raindrops start to hit the ground. With the electricity in the sky, he’s far more sensitive to movement.

“Dae! Watch out!”

Just as he hears Chanyeøl call out to him, he feels the energy increase and a figure strikes him to the ground from above. 

He lands with a heavy thud, and feels the air get pushed from his chest, making him heave and gasp for air.

“Finally fucking found you.”

He’s on his stomach, so he can’t quite see who it is behind him, but the voice is all too familiar. He must be lacking oxygen, something, there’s no way that is who he thinks. 

The rain begins to pour, and Jongdae feels the weight of a hand land in his hair, grasp it tightly and pull his head back back, he feels soft, warm pants against the shell of his ear, “Some fucking friend you are, huh?”

Jongdae feels a sudden jolt travel through his body and reacts, twisting under the weight and letting an arm free so he can grasp at the one above him, fingers wrapping into the fabric of the man’s jacket, and forces the weight off of his back, standing up quickly.

“Baekhyun,”

He isn’t crazy. But this still doesn’t make any sense.

The other man doesn’t respond, but Jongdae can see the fury in his eyes, even through the pelting rain and bright flashes of lighting. Baekhyun’s hand is wrapped tightly around what Jongdae assumes is the small blade he keeps on him, and Jongdae keeps his ground.

“I can explain.” 

“You don’t need to explain shit, Jongdae.” With that, Baekhyun whips his blade out and sends a quick flash of light to blind Jongdae and make a move. 

He really should know better by now. 

Jongdae uses electricity in the air to sense movement, meaning when he feels Baekhyun come up on his side, he reacts instantly, and slips out of the way to dodge his attack.

He doesn’t want to hurt Baekhyun, but certainly needs to discombobulate him until he can get himself under control.

“You've been coming here the whole time? What the fuck-“ Baekhyun throws a quick punch and strikes Jongdae in the side of his face, “Is wrong with you?” Another punch to the stomach, and Jongdae stumbles back.

“I fucking needed you...” Baekhyun’s hands wrap into Jongdae's jacket, pulling him up to look him in the eyes.

“And you turned your fucking back.”

His grip tightens, and Jongdae feels every ounce of strength Baekhyun has, used to throw Jongdae back into a wall some feet behind him. 

He hears Chanyeøl yell something, sees flashes of bright light, hears Baekhyun argue back, and then it’s quiet. Over the rain and thunder and the throb of his own head, he can only make out so much.

“This looks familiar,” He hears Baekhyun sneer above him.

“Wasn’t this how you looked when you watched that fucking  _ thing _ kill Minseok?”

“Stop-“ Jongdae murmurs weakly. Over all the noise, there’s not a chance in the world Baekhyun heard him. 

He sees the white light in Baekhyun’s hand and braces himself for the next punch. He deserves this, he supposes. Baekhyun is hurting because of him, and he never noticed. 

But, for Baekhyun to use Minseok’s death against him like that, it makes the line where Baekhyun is trying to make his point very fuzzy. 

It hits him, hard. And then again, and then it suddenly stops, and he sees another hazy figure come into frame. 

Baekhyun has always had so much strength for someone so small.

But Jongdae has much more. And that’s where their differences lie.

When he makes out each individual in front of him he relies solely on his own abilities to suck up the last of whatever strength he had in the first place, and manifest an almost net-like structure, creating an electrical barrier in between the two.

He won’t let Baekhyun hurt Chanyeøl. And he won’t let Chanyeøl lash out. Not when he’s been working so hard to control his flames for Jongdae’s sake.

Please he thinks, pushing himself from the ground, don’t hurt him.

He hurls himself towards Baekhyun while he still has the strength to keep the barrier up, and Chanyeøl contained, and crashes into him with full force.

A burst of light and a flash of lightning clash together, making a loud crash, and sparks shower through the rain as Jongdae takes his anger, his frustration, and every last bit of his own rage he’s swallowed for so long out on Baekhyun, who curses and swears, and fights back. 

Still, as it always is, Baekhyun is still stronger, still stands taller, and still ends up putting Jongdae to the ground. 

A flash of lightning, a burst of light, and Jongdae sees so much pain in Baekhyun’s eyes as he crouches over him.

But he won’t let him hurt Chanyeøl. 

So when he gets the chance, swallows the blood in his mouth, he throws his head forward, and puts them both to the ground.

  
  
  


“You turned your back on all of us, Jongdae.”

That isn’t him speaking. 

“Your whole group is falling apart and it’s all thanks to you. How would the rest feel knowing you turned your back on them?”

Stop, stop, make it stop. Not again. 

Jongdae hears nothing but his own voice talking down on him. Like someone hit the mute button on reality but yet is speaking through a megaphone right into his ear. It’s so loud, yet everything is so frighteningly silent.

He’s alone. It’s dark. Everyone has disappeared.

Go away, please.

“So helpless, for someone so powerful.”

This isn’t real. 

Make it be quiet, please just make it go away. Jongdae wants to thrash his body and scream at whatever it is that’s keeping him paralyzed in place. It’s all so heavy, his body is sinking into the ground, the darkness is starting to close in on him, his chest feels tight and his breaths are short. 

“Dae,” 

No. 

Don’t look. Don’t look. 

“Dae.” It’s so mocking. So condescending and Jongda feels the rage and the fear start to build and he can’t do anything but open his eyes, look ahead, and meet the stark white eyes of himself. 

“-dae… You were talking again.”

Jongdae feels his whole body ignite, and as he tries to move, he realizes he’s already sitting halfway up, trapped within a large, warm embrace.

“You’re all sweaty. Gross.”

“Oh, shit.” Chanyeøl curses quietly, “You’re crying?” He asks in surprise, looking down at Jongdae, who turns away.

“Sorry,” Jongdae wipes at his eyes, wincing at the sudden sting of pain, and suddenly remembers the cause of everything. 

Chanyeøl’s arms pull Jongdae in closer, and tighten just a little. He feels Chanyeøl’s face rest in the crook of his neck, end even though he’d rather sit here longer and let himself come back to reality, he lets himself ask,

“Where’s Baekhyun?”

“‘Cross the hall…I don’t like him.”

Jongdae takes a long breath, leaning back against Chanyeøl’s chest and takes one of his hands, pressing a kiss to a bruised knuckle, “Did you get hurt?”

“Not really,” Chanyeøl says softly, “But you did.”

“I’m okay, promise.” Jongdae says, shifting his body and throwing his legs over the bed, standing up slowly. His head is aching and his muscles are sore, but it’s not like he’s had worse. 

“Stay here. I’m going to go talk to him.” Jongdae says, shuffling out of the room and directly across the hall.

The rain has lightened up some, but through the busted walls and smashed windows, Jongdae can still hear it falling, followed by the occasional rumble of thunder. 

This was more than enough to show that Chanyeøl really did care, that he has some more than a chance of making it out of here. Jongdae knocked both himself and Baekhyun out, and even Chanyeøl doesn’t like him, even though Baekhyun and Jongdae scrapped it out, he still brought him to safety.

He understands their relationship. Chanyeøl understands that Baekhyun is important to Jongdae, and not just a threat.

His heart sinks and weighs deep into his stomach when he sees Baekhyun. Even while he’s asleep, he looks troubled, worried, upset like something isn’t right. 

They certainly did a number on each other. For Jongdae to have gone this long without using his power and then suddenly having an outburst on his best friend, he completely lost it. 

Jongdae sits on the edge of the thin, tattered mattress. He lets his fingers run gently over the bruises on his cheek, and through his soft white hair. 

Baekhyun shifts, adjusts a little and his eyes open, he looks worried and scared, but relieved when he sees Jongdae.

“Where is it?”

Of course. Baekhyun isn’t going to be satisfied until his mission is complete, and he knows it’s not.

“Stop.” Jongdae says, “He isn’t dangerous, he brought you here.”

“Bullshit,” Baekhyun spits, making a move to sit up but winces when he’s finally upright, “Where the fuck is it?”

Jongdae puts a hand on Baekhyun’s chest to keep him in place, he won’t get far anyways. 

“How did you find me here?” Jongdae says, “I need you to talk to me, Baekhyun.”

“Oh, so  _ now _ you want to talk? Now you suddenly want to care?” Baekhyun pushes Jongdae's arm away and sits back against the wall with a scoff. 

Jongdae keeps quiet, slowly pulls his hand back to his side, and looks away. 

He hates admitting it, but Baekhyun is right. 

And when Jongdae feels Baekhyun’s eyes burning right into him, he knows what he’s about to say. 

“Fuck,” He scoffs again, “You know I’m right, too.”

Apologizing now would just be silly. But Jongdae doesn’t know what else to say, he doesn’t know what else to do. He thinks back to everything Chanyeøl said that day at the pier, how everyone knows about their crumbling relationship, how they all can see how each of them are hurting, and are only taking it out on each other. 

It’s the most toxic thing they can do when they’re in a position that requires each of their unwavering support. All they did was turn on each other, and in the end, almost killed each other. 

Baekhyun has never been the type to let his anger control his actions. He’s outspoken, but articulate about his words. But never physical. Not in the way Jongdae has seen since they’ve come back. 

  
  


“I followed you here, dumbass. I’ve  _ been _ following you.” Baekhyun says quietly. Jongdae looks back up at him, in the flicker of lightning outside, he can see the flames still flickering angrily in his eyes. 

Jongdae never noticed. Baekhyun must have found a way around his movement senses which doesn’t make any sense. Even though Jongdae vowed to never use his power, the static and motion in the air is almost always there and usually unavoidable. 

“I have my ways,” Baekhyun answers, seeing the way Jongdae seems to start mulling over possibilities in head head, “I’ll let you figure it out.”

Jongdae holds back any facial expressions or actions that might get to Baekhyun’s ego, so he stares blankly, waiting for whatever truth he’s about to lay down in front of Jongdae next, because he can see it coming.

Baekhyun sighs, long and tired, “Talk then, since you suddenly want to so much.”

He thought he could. Jongdae thought he had everything laid out in his head, ready to explain to Baekhyun, 

But he doesn’t. 

He has no idea what to say to make things easier, to ease Baekhyun’s tension.

An apology would be weak, but there’s nothing else to say. Nothing that could possibly make this any easier.

“I should be asking why  _ you’re _ here.” Baekhyun breaks through Jongdae’s thoughts. They glance at each other, Jongdae takes a small breath, “I didn’t know about him,” He explains, “I just didn’t know what to do after we came back. I came here to see the product of what happened that day, and then I just kept coming back.”

“So where’d that thing come from?”

Jongdae shrugs, “I don’t know. He found me.” Jongdae looks over his shoulder, sees Chanyeøl’s eyes heavy on the two of them across the hall, “I thought he was gonna kill me, but he didn’t. He just wanted answers.”

Jongdae watches Baekhyun’s eyes narrow as he tries to process everything. He might believe Jongdae, he might not. He doesn’t really know anymore.

Baekhyun’s lips twitch into a forced smirk, “Don’t we all?” He breathes.

Another few minutes of silence, “I can’t wrap my head around this. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t get it. You’ve never been so distant.”

“And you’ve never been so violent.” Jongdae replies suddenly, “Don’t talk to me like I’m the only one whose changed.”

“At least I’m trying! At least I’m not staying out until random fucking hours and only coming home when I need to.”

“You just tried to kill me. It’s like every time I so much as even look in your direction you want to hurt me, Baekhyun. I’m staying out of your way, I’m staying out of everyone's way. It just feels better that way.”

“I only look at you like that because it pisses me off that ever since we’ve gotten back, you’ve done  _ nothing _ to try and help us, or even yourself. It’s like you stopped caring about everything and that’s not you.”

The heaviness of Baekhyun’s eyes makes Jongdae want to look away, but he can’t.

“That’s not my best friend.”

There’s no point in trying to fight back. Not when they both know Baekhyun is right. No one else is going to tell Jongdae what he needs to hear other than him, and Jongdae might as well sit here and take it. 

He can’t fight back. He doesn’t want to anymore. 

“I know it hurts, Jongdae. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t fucking think about them and I know you’re the same.”

“I think you and I got hit the hardest, you know? But you can’t just push us away, you can’t push me away. Not when you’re all I have. I can’t let you be next, Jongdae I-“ Baekhyun sucks in a breath. Shaky, and so full of fear.

“I’m afraid, too. Afraid that one day you’ll leave like you always do and never come back.”

Jongdae’s breath isn’t caught in his chest, afraid that if he lets go, everything he’s trying so hard to keep down will pour out right here in front of Baekhyun.

“We weren’t supposed to let each other become like this.” Baekhyun chokes, “We weren’t supposed to fucking turn on each other, you weren’t supposed to be the reason for my anger, and yet you are.”

“We’re all hurting Jongdae, we’re all struggling. We’ve never lived normal lives, but we’re sure as fuck trying to. But pushing everyone away when you need us just as much as we need you is just making things worse. You don’t know how much it hurts me to see you do this not only to us but to yourself.”

Jongdae so badly wants to reach out and wipe the tears from Baekhyun’s face. But now he isn’t so sure. He’s so afraid Baekhyun will push him away, and reject him like before. 

This hurts. He didn’t think it would, but it does. He turned his back, not just on Baekhyun, but everyone. He’s spent so much time letting his guilt and trauma eat him alive from the inside that he completely ignored the group's feelings. 

It must be reflex. Because Baekhyun doesn’t cry all that often. And when he does, it’s painful to watch. Before he realizes it, Jongdae is wiping away Baekhyun’s tears and pulling him into a hug, and lets himself go.

  
  


Baekhyun squeezes him a little tighter, and the soft sobs fade a little, and suddenly he can feel another presence behind him. 

“I promise he won’t hurt you, Baek. I’ve been studying him for the last three months, he isn’t dangerous, he’s not a threat anymore.” Jongdae feels Baekhyun’s muscles tense under his skin, but continues to rub his back, keeping him close. 

“How are you so sure?” Baekhyun asks. If he could guess what was going on, he’d probably see Chanyeøl and Baekhyun having a staring contest with one another. Chanyeøl’s hands are probably folded in front of him, Baekhyun’s eyes are probably narrowed into a glare. 

“Because he helped me.”

Chanyeøl’s voice cuts through the room low and warm. Genuinely honest honest in such a way that it makes Jongdae's heart tremble inside his chest.

“Please don’t take Dae. It’s okay if you hate me- just… I need him, too.”

  
  


“Jongdae,” Baekhyun murmurs, “You’re a brat.”

“But also the only person who is capable of making a thing have feelings.” 

  
  
  


It was a long talk. Baekhyun asking Chanyeøl questions, asking Jongdae questions, asking questions that either of them could answer. Chanyeøl stood shyly in the doorway, answering to the best of his ability, occasionally pausing for Jongdae to answer the rest when he didn’t know what else to say.

Finally, when it came time, Jongdae pulled Chanyeøl down into a hug, made sure he really wasn’t hurt, and told him goodnight, leaving with Baekhyun by his side.

“You don’t think it’s possible, do you? To bring him back?” Baekhyun asks. Not mockingly, but genuinely curious.

Jongdae shrugs, “I don’t want to bring him and expect everything to be okay, I know it won’t be. But I also can’t leave him behind here.”

They slip through the gate, kicking stray pebbles and scuffing their boots on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry.” Jongdae can’t tell if the volume of his voice was too loud or too quiet in between their shared silence. Now that he’s awake and moving, he’s thinking. And he’s thinking way too much about how everything Chanyeøl said just a few days ago was completely spot on. 

The rain is still falling, but not pouring. It’s enough for them to walk side by side comfortably and not be in a rush to get to shelter. 

“Stop. We’re leaving everything that happened back there, you hear me?”

“But Baek-“

  
  


There’s a sudden shift. Baekhyun’s hands firmly place themselves on Jongdae’s shoulders and his face is just inches from Jongdae’s, “ _ Stop _ , Jongdae.”

Jongdae can the the well in Baekhyun’s eyes, and hears the quiver in his voice, “Just let it go, okay? We were both in the wrong, we both fucked up, and we both admitted to our faults. Please… Just let it go.”

Jongdae nods, and the pair continue to walk through the darkened streets. Jongdae spares a glance back over his shoulder once they hit a hill that overlooks the ruins, sees the little flames dancing, and feels himself relax. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


⚡️ 🔥 ⚡️

  
  
  
  


Jongdae lets it sit for a couple more weeks. Lets himself think over his actions realistically, admit them to Junmyeon, and finally spill everything he’d been hiding over the last three months. 

He hated it. He ended up leaving the room out of a fit of anger only to return and give Jongdae the “If you’re happy, I’m happy” speech which Jongdae cut him off short because he was starting to get way too into it. 

“Thank you, really. I know you hate it, and I know the others will too, but… I care about him, Myeon.”

“I can’t stop you.” 

Jongdae and Baekhyun have remained true to their word, not speaking about that night to anyone. But they know the others, especially Junmyeon have become suspicious in their sudden reconciliation. At this point they’re waiting for someone to bring it up, and keep making bets about who it’s going to be. 

So far it’s between Junmyeon and Sehun. 

  
  
  


When Jongdae puts the last remaining comic back onto his shelf, because he found the energy to finally move them, he feels a small charge of excitement run through him.

When he had come back that following night after he and Baekhyun’s fight, he made Chanyeøl a promise that once he finished this series and really proved he was ready, Jongdae would take him. 

It’s been a challenge. Chanyeøl still, on some occasions has his moments where he feels like he’ll never really make it, or loses confidence in himself thus making him think at one point or another he’ll lose Jongdae in the midst of all the chaos. 

It’s a lot of reassuring, a lot of him having to tell Chanyeøl over and over that he won’t leave, and that Chanyeøl is worth the fight. 

Chanyeøl laces his boots up, throws his hood over his head, and keeps his backpack secure on his shoulders as he slips through the streets. When he can see the ruins on top of the hill, he feels nervous and excited all at once. 

But when he slips through the gate the atmosphere is suddenly much darker.

He calls out for Chanyeøl, listens for a response, and focuses on any movement in the air, repeating until something happens, but nothing does. 

He finds Chanyeøl exactly where he expects him to, but not looking quite the way he does when Jongdae walks into his old, abandoned hospital room that he hates he’s become too familiar with. 

“You what today is?”

“I can’t do it, Jongdae. I can’t-“ Chanyeøl is sat in the far corner of the room, long legs pulled up to his chest, and his head resting on his arms. 

“Yes you can. You deserve it, you’ll be okay, I promise. I’m going to protect you no matter what.” Jongdae takes a few steps over to him, crouches down so they’re eye level and smiles, “You helped me, and now it’s my turn to help you.” 

Jongdae drops his backpack to the floor, opens it, and pulls out a jacket large enough for Chanyeøl, and hands it to him. 

“Put this on, it’ll keep you from being seen.”

Chanyeøl shakes his head, and Jongdae can see the fear and apprehension in those soft eyes. He stands up and extends his hand for Chanyeøl to take, and keeps a firm, but not painful grip when Chanyeøl finally takes hold. 

“I”m not letting you go. Not now, not ever.” Jongdae picks up the jacket, helps Chanyeøl put it on, and walks them to the gate. 

Jongdae is patient in easing Chanyeøl’s rising apprehension and sudden fears. He’s hardly ever been this close, this is daunting for him as much as it is for Jongdae, but he won’t admit that. 

Not until he knows Chanyeøl is safe, and within his care. 

It’s a lot of coaxing, a lot of soft encouragement and keeping Chanyeøl close until they slip through the gate, and Jongdae doesn’t think he’s felt himself smile this wide in ages. Chanyeøl is free from his own pain, saved from his own battle, and is with Jongdae without any fear. 

Jongdae lets his hands rest on either side of Chanyeøl’s face and pulls him down to press a chaste kiss on his lips, “I’m so proud of you, love.” 

Jongdae pulls the hood of the jacket up over Chanyeøl’s head, making sure it’s secure, before pulling up his own and threading his fingers with Chanyeøl’s, “We’re not ever looking back on this place, okay?”

Jongdae watches Chanyeøl’s eyes flick around, taking in the last of the scenery, as if bidding it a silent goodbye before nodding. 

“Let’s go home, Yeollie.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I so hope this was okay. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
